


Ouroboros

by DarkestDesire



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-04
Updated: 2014-09-11
Packaged: 2018-02-16 04:31:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 4,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2255967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkestDesire/pseuds/DarkestDesire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU. The Skull and Snake Killer is on the loose and Detective Harry Potter is on the case. But just why is the killer so focused on Harry? And will Harry be able to catch him before it is too late? Tom/Harry Slash</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is sort of my take on a situation where Harry Potter characters take the place of characters from the T.V. show Dexter. You do not need to have seen Dexter in order to understand what is going on, though. 
> 
> The chapters will be short. Whenever there is a break in the scene, there will be a new chapter. I am doing this to encourage myself to actually update with some regularity.

“I said I’m fine,” Harry emphasized with exasperation, slouching down in his armchair and crossing his arms across his chest. It made him look more like a petulant teen than the accomplished 26 year old detective that he was, which he blamed entirely on Snape. Well respected psychiatrist that he was, he was also the absolute last person that Harry wished to open up to. Why Dumbledore had thought this would be a wise decision was beyond him.  
  
“Yes, clearly,” Snape responded with biting sarcasm. “You know, we are going to have to talk about that night eventually.” His eyes bore into Harry’s defiant green ones until finally the young detective sighed.  
  
“What is there to talk about? Sirius is dead and no amount of talking is going to fix that,” the black haired youth declared solemnly, turning away from Snape’s penetrating gaze. “Look, can’t you just clear me for duty already?”  
  
Snape let out a small derisive snort and Harry wondered if the man was like this with all of his clients or if he was just a special case. “You know it doesn’t work that way, Mr. Potter. You have to prove to me that you are fit to return to duty before I will sign off for it. The only way to do that is to actually talk about that night. Now, we can either waste both your and my time sitting here arguing about this or you can speak with me about what happened.”  
  
Harry huffed, annoyed, but resigned to his fate. He might as well just get it over with. “He called me, the Skull and Snake killer I mean, from Sirius’s cell phone. He told me to come alone or I would never see my Godfather again. Told me not to call anyone else or he’d know. I only called Ron, from a burner phone, because I trusted him not to involve the entire department. We went to the abandoned warehouse down on the south side of town that he wanted us to meet at. Ron waited outside. By the time I got in there, the killer was already gone and Sirius…Sirius was hanging from the rafters with a skull mask on and a snake wrapped around his neck. I-I didn’t want to believe it was him, but a part of me knew. If I hadn’t called Ron, maybe…I don’t know-I just wish I could go back and…I don’t know.” Harry shook his head and wiped fiercely at the tear tracks making their way down his face. It was his fault, all his fault, if only he had just…he honestly didn’t know. Somehow he had a feeling Sirius would have wound up dead either way, but not knowing if he could have changed the outcome was the worst part. He refused to look at Snape, not wanting to see disgust in the man’s eyes, or worse, pity. He knew that Snape hadn’t mourned for Sirius-it was a well-known fact that they’d hated each other’s guts-and opening up to Snape of all people felt like a betrayal. At least he could trust in Snape’s discretion, if nothing else.  
  
“Are we done here?” Harry cut in before Snape had a chance to respond. He needed to get out of here, needed to go back to work, to the only thing that kept him from replaying that night on repeat over and over again and wondering what if…?  
  
Snape sighed, but it sounded tired, rather than irritated. “You didn’t do anything wrong, Potter,” he spoke softly, but firmly. “You won’t be able to move on until you’ve accepted that. Do you understand?”  
  
Harry nodded, numbly, not sure how else to respond. He understood perfectly well, but actually doing so was another matter. He had a feeling Snape knew this, but the older man didn’t push.  
  
“Time’s up. We’ll continue this on Thursday.” Snape shut his notebook with a snap and walked back to his desk in clear dismissal.  
  
Harry couldn’t get out of there fast enough.


	2. Chapter 2

“We’ve got a dead body down on the docks. Tonks, Weasley, you’re up,” Kingsley shouted across the squad room, marching towards Tonks’ desk to hand her the details. 

Ron perked up from his adjoining desk. “Thank God!” he exclaimed. “I mean, well…It’s just if I had to do one more hour of paperwork, I think I was gonna lose it,” he explained sheepishly, scratching the back of his head. He turned towards Harry’s desk, where his black haired best friend was hunched over a folder. “Sorry mate, I honestly don’t know how you’re holding up,” he added, noting the large stack of file folders perched on the corner of Harry’s desk.

Harry sighed, leaning back in his chair. “I should be cleared for active duty again soon enough,” he replied hopefully, glaring at his papers with disdain. 

Ron nodded. “We’ll be back out there before you know it!” he smiled. He turned to Tonks with a worried expression, “No offense or anything, Tonks.”

“None taken,” she responded without bothering to look up.

Kingsley eyed them all warily. “I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but Moody wants you two broken up,” he declared, gesturing to Ron and Harry. “Potter, you’re going to be with Diggory when Snape finally clears you,” Kingsley addressed Harry, missing Ron’s unhappy gesture behind his back. 

Harry fought to hold in his laughter. “Got it,” he acknowledged. He supposed it was to be expected after what had happened. He wasn’t pleased, not that he was upset, either. Cedric was a nice enough guy and they got along fairly well. Harry turned his gaze towards Cedric’s empty desk, wondering if he knew. 

Kingsley turned back to Ron and Tonks. “Well, what are you waiting for?”


	3. Chapter 3

Harry felt like a great weight had been lifted off his shoulders. It had only been two months, but being out of the field was pure torture. He was eager to get back out there, though admittedly a little nervous. It would be weird not having Ron by his side.

When Kingsley finally called his name, with a tell-tale manila folder in his hand, he all but bolted up from his desk and over to where his tall, black superior was handing off the information to Cedric. It sounded like a simple open and shut case-wife finds out about her husband's other woman and kills him as payback-but he was excited none the less.

Diggory turned to him and smiled. "Don't you need your things?" he questioned, glancing at Harry.

Harry could feel the blush heating his cheeks. "Oh, right." Perhaps he'd been a little over-eager. He rushed back to his desk and gathered everything in a hurry, a little out of practice.

The walk down to the car was pleasant enough. Cedric made small talk, with Harry responding half-heartedly, wary of the conversation turning toward matters he'd rather not discuss. Finally, Cedric eyed him speculatively. "You nervous?" he questioned, concern nearly palpable.

Harry sighed. "I guess," he confessed. "I mean, it's just weird, you know?" He carefully avoided eye contact, afraid of seeing pity in Cedric's eyes.

"If you need anything, just let me know, alright?" Cedric offered kindly.

Harry nodded. He hated how delicately people had been treating him ever since the incident, though he could tell Cedric meant well. Eager to change the subject, Harry smiled at Cedric disarmingly. "Can I drive?"

Cedric let out a surprised chuckle. "Not a chance," he declared firmly. "Ron's warned me of your driving," he added with a smirk.

Harry laughed lightly. "I've never been in an accident that was my fault," he defended. Just because he drove a little fast didn't mean he was reckless.

"I'm still driving." Cedric unlocked the car and Harry climbed into the passenger seat. Honestly, he hadn't really wanted to drive that badly; he was too distracted for it, even if it would have given him something else to focus on.

It was only about ten minutes later that they were pulling up in front of a huge gothic style mansion, looking like something out of a Grimm fairy tale. Cedric let out a low whistle. "Well, Kingsley should have warned us it was going to be high profile."

Harry nodded. So much for a simple first case back. Not that he was complaining. The CSI's were already there and Harry nodded at Hermione and Collin as he passed them in the foyer. As he and Cedric were led down to the basement where the body was, Harry had trouble shaking the feeling that he was being watched. The hairs on the back of his neck prickled and it was from more than just Creevey's creepy obsession with him; he'd gotten used to those stares. The feeling unnerved him and he wasn't about to ignore it. He'd learned to trust his gut over the years working vice; it had saved him on more than one occasion.

He turned to the police officer leading them to the basement. "Are there security cameras in here?" he questioned.

The officer gave him an odd look. "We haven't located any, but they're not done processing everything yet."

Cedric gave him a questioning glance, but Harry merely shook his head. He glanced around the hallway they were being led down, taking care to note any areas where a camera could be hidden. It sounded cliché, but he could swear there was something hidden behind some of these portraits…

When they finally made it to what could only be described as a torture chamber, Harry let out a slight gasp. Kingsley had left out a few pertinent details. The scene before him was like a macabre work of art, the body pinned up like the Vitruvian Man, with blood spatter covering a large portion of the room. It had the distinct feel of one of the Snake and Skull murders, but the symbols were conspicuously absent. One thing Harry knew for sure was that this was no simple lovers' quarrel. So lost was he in the scene, he barely heard when Cedric addressed him.

"You okay?"

The thought of Sirius trussed up suddenly came to mind and he couldn't blame Cedric for questioning him. "I'm fine," Harry insisted. And, surprisingly, he was. He'd missed this; he liked the thrill it gave him to catch a killer. He listened with half an ear as Cedric questioned the officer who had responded to the call as he walked around the room examining the body and then the room itself.

Once again the feeling that there just had to be cameras somewhere in here wouldn't leave him alone. He poked and prodded at the different torture devices around the room before finally settling in front of the air vent. "I need a screw driver," he interrupted insistently.

"I-umm…sure. I'll be right back," the officer, Harry couldn't remember his name, hurried to say, before rushing out of the room.

"What's in the air vent?" Cedric questioned, coming to stand behind Harry and peering up at the item in question.

"Hopefully a camera, if my hunch is right," Harry responded to Cedric, before turning to glance around the room again. "I know there's got to be one somewhere in here and this seems the most logical place." The officer returned, screwdriver in hand and Harry gratefully accepted it. He handed the screwdriver to Cedric. "You're taller," was all he said by way of explanation. They all watched with bated breath as Cedric carefully removed the vent cover and peered inside. And there it was.

"Well, I'll be damned!" Cedric exclaimed. He gave Harry a congratulatory clap on the back.

"I'll get the CSIs down here right away, sir!" was all the officer said before rushing once more out the door.

"How'd you know it'd be there?" Cedric asked, giving Harry a contemplative look.

Harry shrugged. He couldn't really explain it; it was just a feeling he got sometimes. "Just a lucky hunch, I guess."

Collin came rushing in with a camera around his neck and a large box full of supplies a moment later and Harry bit back a groan. He'd been hoping Hermione would have come down so he could have avoided this.

"I knew you would find something, Harry. I'm so glad you're back! We all missed you, you know. Terrible what happened and all, real tragedy. But, look at you! I can't believe we all missed this. That's why you're the best, Harry!" Harry forced a smile onto his face as Collin gushed. "Do you mind if I take a picture of you with the camera? Act like you're just discovering it."

Harry complied, knowing from experience that it would be easier just to give in. Collin had a way of wearing people down. If his smile looked a little more like a grimace as he posed, well, who could blame him?


	4. Chapter 4

Bellatrix Lestrange was a piece of work, and that was putting it lightly. Her husband was dead and all she could talk about was how much of a disappointment he had been. It certainly wasn't helping her case.

"Look, where were you this morning between midnight and 5 a.m.?" Cedric pressed, hoping to get a firm answer out of her and actually make some progress. Harry glanced between him and a bright eyed, smirking Bellatrix and cut in before she could make any more evasive comments that would lead them nowhere.

"Why do you think the body was displayed like that? I mean, you seem like a sharp woman, surely you have some theories." Cedric shot him a withering glare that Harry caught out of the corner of his eye as he kept his focus on Bellatrix.

"Hmm…now that's an interesting question. Harry, now you don't mind if I call you that, do you?" she waited for him to wave her on, even if he very much did mind, before continuing. "My guess, and it's only a guess, mind you, would be that the person who did this to him has a taste for theatrics," her eyes lit up as she spoke, seeming to savor Harry's attention. "And, as for the removal of his genitals, I should think the reason for that should be obvious." She leaned back in her chair, perfectly content to discuss her former husband's murder.

Harry nodded. "You know, there are rumors that he cheated on you and that's the reason why you killed him and removed his genitals, but I don't think that." Here, he paused, letting her hang on his every word. "No, I think that he wasn't man enough for you. That he lacked your respect and that's why you did it. I don't know what specifically he did, or perhaps didn't do, to cause this, but it's only a matter of time before I find out."

If anything, Bellatrix seemed pleased by his assessment. She let out a mad little giggle. "Oh my, I can see why he likes you," she declared, eyes gleaming. "Yes, yes, quite the clever one you are. But I'm afraid that's all just speculation, now isn't it, Harry dearest. And, as I'm sure you know, my lawyer should be arriving any moment now…" There was a knock at the door at that very moment, as if she'd planned it. She smiled in self-satisfaction. "Ta ta now. I do hope to see you again soon, Harry darling." She waved, as if seeing off a friend and Harry narrowed his eyes at her, but purposefully refrained from reacting further.

He and Cedric made their way to the door and sure enough, Lucius Malfoy, Bellatrix's lawyer, stood on the other side. They were ushered out of the room with a disgruntled expression from Kingsley and a smirk from Malfoy as he slide by them.

It didn't occur to Harry till much later that he'd never told Bellatrix his first name.


	5. Chapter 5

Despite protests from Kingsley, Moody had cleared him to work this scene. As it was, they needed all the help they could get. And, honestly, Harry was fine. More than fine, really. He needed this. Needed to catch the sick son of a bitch that had killed his Godfather and countless others. 

The Skull and Snake killer had struck again. 

This time it was a poor old woman named Batilda Bagshot. Harry wondered what she could have possibly done to deserve such a fate. She was 96 years old and blind as a bat. She couldn’t have put up much of a fight. Why had he done it? What was the point in killing her? Then again, what was the point in him killing any of his victims? That had always been the puzzling part, trying to find the connection. When the murders appeared random, they were terribly hard to predict, and, thus, to stop. 

Harry had to wonder at that, though. With how meticulous and symbolic the Skull and Snake killer was, it just didn’t make sense for the kills to be random. There had to be some method to the madness. Or was he just toying with the police department by picking random victims? Perhaps. Harry wouldn’t put it past him. He’d certainly done it before. His thoughts drifted to Sirius. 

Was Batilda Bagshot important to someone on the force? He hadn’t seen anyone acting more distraught than usual over her death. But he had to wonder.


	6. Chapter 6

The first chance he got, Harry followed his hunch and googled Batilda Bagshot. To say he was surprised by what he found was an understatement. It turned out that dear old Batilda had been the adoptive parent of one Albus Dumbledore, his very own Captain. If that wasn't a sign that the police were being targeted by the killer, he didn't know what was.

He went to Moody as soon as possible and, while the Lieutenant looked tired, he didn't look surprised. "I was wondering when someone would figure it out. Captain Dumbledore was going to make an announcement this afternoon, but I guess the secret's out. It seems we're all targets and that anyone we're close to is a potential victim now. They're bringing in the F.B.I."

"What?! They're not taking the case away from us, are they?" Harry balked.

Moody shook his head. "No, technically, they're simply here to consult with us. We're still, supposedly, in charge. Unofficially, though, we'd better do whatever their lead investigator wants us to." Moody looked none too pleased. "They're sending us some hot shot named Agent Tom Riddle. I expect you to play nice with him. Be sure to keep me in the loop, though." Moody shot him a pointed look with his one good eye.

Harry nodded. "Of course, Sir. Will do."


	7. Chapter 7

Harry wasn't exactly sure what he had expected this Agent Riddle to be like, but to be perfectly honest he had thought he'd be some stuffy, old, stick in the mud. But, well, Riddle was anything but. He was relatively young, probably in his mid-forties, and handsome to boot. And, God, maybe it'd just been way too long since Harry had been laid, but Riddle seemed to exude this devilish charm that had Harry going weak at the knees. He still hated the reason why Riddle was here, the clear implication that they couldn't handle this killer themselves, but he was more than willing to work with Riddle. Eager even. Maybe a little too eager.

They were all gathered in the briefing room going over the details of the Skull and Snake killer case, filling Riddle in. The tall, dark haired man was listening with rapt attention as Kingsley went over everything, asking a few insightful questions here and there. Eventually Riddle took over completely, enquiring for more information from each individual working on the case. By the time Harry's turn rolled around, he was unaccountably nervous.

"And what do you think of this Skull and Snake killer?" Riddle questioned, the killer's name seeming to leave a bad taste in his mouth. "Detective…?"

"Potter, Sir," Harry responded quietly. "And, well, he seems to be trying to send us some sort of message. Something about transformation and impermanence. In regard to what, though…?" Harry wondered aloud.

"Interesting, very interesting. And what makes you say that?" Riddle questioned sharply, his keen attention focused solely on Harry.

"Well, to be perfectly honest, Sir, google," Harry supplied sheepishly.

"Google," Riddle repeated, eyes shining with something Harry couldn't quite decipher.

"Yes, sir. Apparently in Mexican mythology the image of the snake and skull is a symbol of impermanence." Thinking back to the site he had found, Harry recited, "'More specifically, the symbolic meaning of skull and rattlesnake imagery deals with the human saga of conquering death only to discover the only option is to surrender to life.'"

Riddle nodded. "Yes, indeed. I do believe you are onto something there, Detective Potter. This Skull and Snake killer-and someone had better think up a better name for him-seems to be pointing to some sort of transition. Now, is this a transition between life and death? Or, is it more a transformation within someone's life? And is this transformation taking place in his victims, himself, or someone else entirely?" Here his eyes bore into Harry's as he nodded along, enraptured.


	8. Chapter 8

There was now a team fully dedicated to capturing the Skull and Snake killer and, Harry was happy to say, he was on it. It was comprised of him, Cedric, Kingsley, and Hermione. Harry was quite pleased. And grateful that Collin hadn't been picked as the analyst. He wasn't sure he could have handled that. He noticed a few envious stares from his colleagues as he stayed behind with the other three, but they were easy enough to ignore.

Riddle stood at the front of the briefing room with a pleasant smile on his face, his suit crisp and flattering and entirely too formal for Harry's taste. Harry wondered what he looked like when he wasn't working, though he seemed the type to be a workaholic from what little he could tell. And no, Harry was not checking out his new boss. He couldn't allow himself to go down that path. It would be unprofessional. Everyone would think he was trying to sleep his way to the top, and he hadn't worked this long and hard to prove himself to have that happen. Besides, he couldn't afford to be distracted. This was a huge opportunity, a chance to finally prove his worth. And, if that just so happened to have the added bonus of impressing Agent Tom Riddle, well that was just the icing on the cake.

"I have picked you all for a reason," Riddle began, clasping his hands together. "I see great potential in all of you and, perhaps more importantly, I think you will all work well together as a team." He paused, eyeing each of them, the 'you'd better' clearly implied. "Now that I've gotten a grasp on the evidence that has been gathered so far, we are going to go through it all again in detail. I want you all to voice any thought that comes to mind when you view the evidence, any questions that get raised. It could be some miniscule detail hidden in this evidence that cracks the case."

They were each assigned a pile of evidence to sort through and Harry eagerly dug into his. He was starting back at the beginning, at the very first victim. Well, the first one they could identify as the Skull and Snake killer's anyway, though there had surely been more prior to that.

Bertha Jorkins was before Harry's time, killed back in the summer of 1994. She had been known to be a bit scatterbrained, so no one had thought it too odd when she didn't turn up for work. It had taken a week for the body to be discovered, a week of hot summer days. Harry didn't envy the team that had had to deal with that. For being SS's first identifiable kill, there was nothing sloppy about it. She'd been strung up, just like all his victims, and stabbed. He'd taken his time with her, must have taken some sort of sadistic satisfaction in killing her slowly, watching her bleed out just a little bit more with each incision. It had been a long, painful death. He'd taken his time with her, chosen her to be his first display piece. But why? Why her?

She didn't seem to be a person of any particular importance or significance, so why had he chosen her out of all of the countless possible victims he could have picked? There had to be a reason. Had she known the killer beforehand? Had she done something to offend him? What was it about her that he was missing? Was someone in the police department close to her?

Digging through the file on her, Harry tried to pinpoint something, anything that might have made her a target. She'd been on some sort of gaming board, but Harry wasn't sure of what significance that could be. Actually, wait a minute, this was odd. Harry wasn't sure what to make of it, but Bertha Jorkins had been involved in the Firebolt Soccer Tournament that Harry had participated in way back in freshmen year. Surely it was a coincidence, but well, he really didn't have anything better to work with. Could Hogwarts have any significance? It seemed farfetched, but didn't Riddle say to follow any hunches they might have?

Sirius had gone to Hogwarts, so there was a connection there. Harry knew for a fact that Dumbledore had gone to Hogwarts, too, thus connecting Batilda Bagshot. But, what about the other victims? Searching through his pile, Harry found Samantha and John Bones' files. Scouring the folder for anything that might relate to Hogwarts, Harry finally found it. Susan Bones, their granddaughter, had attended Hogwarts with Harry. Hell, she'd even been in the same year as him. How had he not realized this before? And then there was Hepzibah Smith. She'd attended Hogwarts, too, was known as the heiress to the great Hufflepuff fortune left by one of the founders of the school. The coincidences were piling up, and Harry found himself hard-pressed to ignore the connection.

Striding up to Riddle, he took a deep breath before blurting out, "I think it's Hogwarts, sir."

Riddle narrowed his eyes, tilting his head to the side inquisitively. "Hogwarts," he repeated, "my Alma Mater. What about it?"

Harry paused, taking in this new piece of information about Agent Riddle. "I think it's the connection we've been looking for between the victims. I haven't gone through all of the files, but there are at least a handful of victims that are in some way or another related to Hogwarts."

Riddle appeared intrigued, which Harry took as a good sign. He turned toward the rest of the team. "I want you to look for any connections between the victims and Hogwarts. Report back to me as soon as you find something." Turning back to Harry, he smiled. "If this pans out, you may have just solved the case."

Harry's breath hitched a little bit before he returned the smile. "Let's hope so, sir."


End file.
